


Reflections

by DiAnima



Series: Stories from Gielinor (Misc.) [1]
Category: Runescape (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, LOTS of hype pre-Children of Mah, Monologue, Some HCs, Some angst, bashed this out in like 2 hours before the quest was released, repost from previous account, so hype, some spoilers? I guess?, toot toot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 11:37:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15387942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiAnima/pseuds/DiAnima
Summary: Some thoughts from Azzanadra, before the events of Children of Mah.[Edited and reposted from previous account.]





	Reflections

i. The first time we fought, we were hardly more than children.

We did not truly understand what it meant when the earthquake shook our bones but our instincts told us to fight, and so we did. We were both too young to stand a chance with any of the available females. That did not stop us trying. We bickered and squabbled over the one we both fancied until she blasted us over the nearest ridge, where we could sulk at a safe distance from the violence.

We were raised as rivals, you and I. We always knew that a day would come where one of us would rise to rule, and the other would fall under his hand, destroyed, sacrificed for the tribe. I had Temekel as my guide, my mentor. You had your mother.

Though how were we to know that before either of us could conquer the other to rule our little patch of Freneskae, we would leave?

Briefly, on this strange world, we became allies. In the face of so much _newness_ we had little choice. Our combined strength was more useful in protecting the tribe than either of us acting alone.

But…you were never alone, Firestorm, were you? You had more family that you ever had any right to. You had your mother, Tarriana the Flame, one of Mother Mah’s finest creations; you had your elder sisters, and no brothers to be wary of; and you had Rhekata. You had your children.

I don’t think any of us have forgotten the scream you gave when you lost them all.

* * *

 ii. Zaros chose me to rule.

That was what ended our temporary alliance. You could not bear to see me chosen, lifted above all others, lifted above _you_. You were the strongest, you knew, so command was your birthright.

You fought it, and as a result, you fought me. On Freneskae, you would have torn me to pieces, but Senntisten was more complicated. I had the Great Lord. He lent me his unknowable strength and I cast you from the city for your insubordination. For the rest of our kind that settled the matter and if you had any sense it would have settled it for you as well.

You should have accepted the Great Lord’s will. You should have obeyed him from the start.

Instead you went to ground in _Infernus_ , of all the worlds, and we didn’t see you again for years.

* * *

 iii. On your return you seemed…different.

Perhaps whatever grief that still ate away at you after the detonation had run its course. Perhaps you had finally come to your senses. Perhaps you realised that this world was big enough for both of us. Whatever the reason, you came back, and you swore your oath of loyalty to the Great Lord, as was proper.

We learned and we grew. You had an affinity with the demons, but I learnt their language faster; we both ascended through our respective ranks with considerable speed (I pitied any creature who tried to style themselves as your commanding officer) but I was the first to be crowned.

Was that what spurred you into demanding authority? The urge to best me in everything that you did?

The Cardinals found it quite amusing, your shameless, transparent quest for power. Most who called Senntisten home were used to being rather subtle in their attempts to gain influence. You…well. You were never one for playing those kinds of games.

Eventually Zaros gave you what you wanted and crowned you, too. Legatus Maximus. The only one who equalled you was me. Did that sting? Did it sting, that no matter how hard you tried, I was always in your way?

Legatus Rex, they called you when they thought I couldn’t hear. Sliske told me this with glee. King amongst the commanders.

And sometimes, quieter – _Legatus Deus._

* * *

iv. “Zamorak has spoken to me about the nature of godhood.”

“Why, my lord?”

“It seems he has come across information on the young gods, on Saradomin and Armadyl. He wished to know how they came to be what they are.”

“Did you tell him?”

“I saw no reason not to.”

“Does he wish to _dare_ take the same path? Is he so insolent to reject your divinity-”

“I do not believe that is his intention, Azzanadra. He was asking for my counsel on the matter. He refuses to rest on his laurels - he is seeking the next challenge. This, it seems, is the logical consequence. His ambition is admirable.”

“Will you allow it?”

“Perhaps. He may be the weapon we need to take the fight to the young gods of this world. As long as I am sure of his loyalty, he will pose no danger. If he wishes to strengthen himself in my name – perhaps it will benefit us all.”

“I cannot say I agree.”

“Do not fear, my Pontifex. He understands he cannot defy me. Even if he were to find a way to ascend, he would need my guidance. He is under my control, and I would never allow any harm to come to you.”

* * *

v. He was wrong.

You betrayed us all.

You corrupted our kind and tore down all we had built.

You took him from all of us, and once you had finished your work on Infernus you declared a war – an extermination.

You took him from me.

* * *

vi. We fought for years with armies, generals, champions.

Towns fell first, then cities. I thought perhaps you might show mercy to the innocents but you killed indiscriminately.

Senntisten held. I made sure of it. Despite your best efforts, the heartlands held. I would not allow you to desecrate my Lord’s lands.

Defections were rife. We turned on each other as if we had forgotten Mother Mah’s greatest law.

 _Protect the tribe_.

I did what I could to protect my Lord’s great work. But in the end, it was not enough.

* * *

vii. The last time we fought, we clashed on a smoking, dead battlefield, surrounded by the corpses of mortals who had tried to come between us.

You were terrifying and magnificent in your new power. A young god, ablaze with fresh divinity, crowned with scarlet horns.

We fought.

For hours, we fought.

I would not let you destroy my lord’s name. I knew you were strong, but I believed my faith would make me stronger, that somehow I could hold you from the gates.

I was wrong.

I fell.

* * *

viii. You did not kill me.

I awoke captive, bound, my power taken from me, my strength erased. You told me what you and your allies were planning to do, and you laughed when I begged you not to.

I prayed for strength and my Lord did not answer.

I prayed that my injuries might take me from this world, but my Lord did not answer.

Of course he didn’t. You had taken him from me.

You buried me alive inside a pyramid and listened as I screamed for mercy, while your mages tore whatever I have that passes for a soul apart.

* * *

 ix. I hear your name now, spoken in reverence and in fear.

You have made yourself a patron of this world. All but a few of what remains of our tribe idolise and envy your strength. Your sigil is worn by races across the earth. Your champions preach your philosophy in all corners, and mortals willingly die in your name.

I still remember the centuries of agony you inflicted on me. It is seared into me. I wake, sometimes, in terror of its recurrence.

If I were alone, I would fear you.

But I am no longer alone.

My Lord has returned, and he will make you pay for your betrayal. He will rip the wings from your back and tear the horns from your skull. He will take back the power that is his.

A reckoning is coming, Zamorak, and it will be your last.

 


End file.
